


Hangover

by Go_Fic_Yourself



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, I wrote this while squinting, M/M, Slash if you squint, squinting is encouraged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go_Fic_Yourself/pseuds/Go_Fic_Yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after a mission gone wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangover

Phillip J Coulson woke up feeling like a mess of shallow cuts and bruises, his thoughts fighting their way through a thick fog to make it to the surface, and his stomach rolling with the bad decisions of the night before. And piercing through it all, the shrill and grating sound of his door buzzer. He briefly considered burrowing under his pillow to avoid the sound, but knew that it wouldn’t stop until he answered it.

He stumbled out of bed and continued in a similar fashion until he reached the panel by the door and hit the button to allow the intruder in.

Normally he would use the intercom to see who it was before buzzing them up, but from the hour and the context, he knew who it was.

He unlocked the door and leaned his head on the cool metal of the intercom panel.

That was the position Clint found him in after making his way up the five flights of stairs and letting himself in.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Damn boss, you look like thirty miles of bad road.”

“Thank you, Hawkeye. I hadn’t noticed.”

Clint rolled his eyes, handing Phil a paper travel cup of coffee and sliding past him into the kitchen. He stepped on the trash can lever on the way by, peeking in and whistling low. “I see you had a threesome with Ben and Jerry last night. How was it.”

“Clint.” He growled from behind his coffee cup.

“Did you even bother with a bowl?”

“Maybe.”

“What was your poison?”

“Everything but the kitchen sink.”

Clint heaved a sigh. “Alright then, you know the drill boss-man. Go get changed. We’ve got a lot of calories for you to run off and you’re wasting daylight.”

Phil considered arguing, but knew it wouldn’t make any difference.

And he was nothing if not a man who knew how to pick his battles.


End file.
